


A King’s Strength

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family Fluff, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Aragorn’s family is what drives him in ruling their Kingdom





	A King’s Strength

Aragorn lingered for a long spell upon his throne after dismissing his military council, rubbing over his tired face with one hand, his eyes closed in a desperate attempt to find some inner peace.

No great evil was afoot. The King was merely tired, and in great need of a break from dealing with his various lords, ladies, and other courtiers. 

Mind swimming in a cesspool of duties to be fulfilled, Aragorn sucked in a deep breath and let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Should I tell the lords of Ithilien to wait outside a few moments longer?” Faramir asked his brother-in-law with a look of concern upon his usually cheerful face. 

“Please.” Aragorn confirmed, not looking up. “But only a moment. I won’t keep them waiting long. Tell them that.”

The young steward nodded and bowed to his king before walking down the center of the throne room floor to the doors that were holding back more restless diplomats.

Aragorn continued to rest his eyes and massage his aching head, taking full advantage of the short time he had to himself.

Tiny footsteps soon interrupted that short moment, however, and when Aragorn looked up again he could not help but smile.

“Hello, my brave little wanderer.” He spoke to his toddler son, reaching down to pick Eldarion up as the boy reached the white marble throne and managed to climb up its steps, showing his new teeth to his father whenever he smiled up at him. 

Aragorn sat the small child on his knee. “Did you manage to escape your mother then?” He chuckled at Eldarion, who continued to giggle and coo at him. “You have quite a talent for disappearing. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s.” 

“He did not escape me.” Boromir announced himself, entering the throne room from the hidden passage way at the opposite end of the tower. That, Aragorn supposed, must have been where Eldarion had come from as well. 

“Mamama!” Eldarion squealed when he saw Boromir approach, clapping his tiny hands together.

“You are both a sight for sore eyes.” The King told sighed as he stood from his throne, lifting Eldarion up and descending the steps to meet his consort and kiss him softly. 

“You are exhausted, Aragorn.” Boromir voiced his concern once the King had removed his lips from his own. 

“I am.” His husband confirmed, bouncing Eldarion in his arms lightly as the boy giggled with glee. “But I have a kingdom to rule.”

“A king must take time to rest for the sake of his own health.” Boromir reminded Aragorn.

He was right of course, but today was not the day to rest. Too many were knocking at his doors with their troubles. He had to answer to his people if he hoped to help them.

“Tomorrow, I will take some time to spend with the two of you.” Aragorn promised his family. “For now, I must attend to the worries of our people.”

“Then at least let me offer you this small peace of strength...” Boromir insisted, causing Aragorn to raise a brow in question. “I have news for you, my king. Wonderful news.” He moved one hand to rest against his middle and the King’s eyes widened.

“Can it be true?” Aragorn whispered softly. 

“The healers have confirmed it.” Boromir smiled. “A winter baby, they say it will be.”

Aragorn shifted his son to one arm and used his other to pull Boromir close and kiss him again.

Eldarion squealed then with jealously and frowned at his parents, who laughed at the sight of his sweet little face scrunched up in a mean sort of glare. 

“Don’t fret, my child.” Aragorn smiled, kissing the boy’s chubby cheek before passing him off to his mother again. “You will always be our first born.”

“Yes.” Boromir agreed, kissing his son’s other cheek and nuzzling his little face until the toddler was smiling and cooing at him again. “Our little prince. You’ll sit upon that throne one day.” 

“One day...” Aragorn sighed, not at all eager for his son to have such worries. “For now, his most urgent concern should be preparing for the responsibilities that come with being an elder brother.”

“Aragorn...” Faramir’s voice interjected with a sigh then as the steward slinked through the main doors to the King’s throne room. “The Ithilien lords will wait no longer.” 

Boromir frowned and looked to Aragorn worriedly but the King only shook his head and gently caressed his consort’s cheek. “Go. Take some rest for yourself, my love.” He told him. “You need it more than I.” 

Boromir nodded with a soft, loving smile and reached out quickly to ruffle Faramir’s hair before he left with little Eldarion.

“When did Boromir come in?” The younger son of Denethor inquired once his brother had left them. “I didn’t let him through the doors.”

“He knows these halls better than anyone.” Aragorn smiled fondly. “There are other doors to this room...You’re going to be an uncle again, Faramir.”

The younger man’s confused expression turned then to one of pure joy. “Congratulations, my king.” He told Aragorn. “To you and to my brother. I’m sure he’ll give you another beautiful child, happy and healthy.” 

Aragorn nodded as he climbed the steps to his throne once again. “Aye. He will indeed.” He confirmed, turning to sit down, his head held high and his face beaming with pride. He would make it through the rest of this long and tiring day just fine.


End file.
